


fake you out

by Ship_theboybands



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, also this is meant to be a drabble??, art major!michael, i dont know what this is, protective!ash, there is a pushy dude who kind of harasses mike so if that's gonna b triggering pls dont read, this is not as dramatic as it sounds btw its basically just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:10:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3065687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ship_theboybands/pseuds/Ship_theboybands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>daddirwin asked:</p>
<p>I BELIEVE IT'S YOUR DESTINY TO WRITE ME SOME FAKE DATING MASHTON PLS</p>
            </blockquote>





	fake you out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruperts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruperts/gifts).



> this is not what u asked for probably im sorry this is lame

The guy had seemed nice at first. 

His name was Beck, and he was the same kind of mix between sensitive hipster and jocky dude-bro that Michael knows is very attractive to most people. He’d complimented Michael’s watercolour piece, and sat next to him in History of art lectures. They would complain about the papers together on the way out of class, and trade notes sometimes. 

And Beck was very obviously into him, which was always nice. Michael hadn’t ever really been that popular with girls, or guys, back in highschool, so he always gets this surprised flattered feeling whenever anyone shows interest. 

So, when Beck asks Michael for his number, Michael says yes. When the first thing Beck texts him is _wanna fuck?_ Michael deletes the number and actually feels kind of gross. He calls himself stupid for thinking Beck might actually be interested in him further than for sex for about half a day before deciding that he doesn’t actually give a fuck. Beck always reminded him a little too much of this boy who used to pick on Luke back in school, anyway.

The problem starts the next day when Michael receives thirteen different texts from him asking basically the same thing as the first had. Michael asks Beck to stop texting him. Beck persists.

It’s really annoying, and actually kind of scary. Becks a year older than Michael (is retaking the year after he dropped out last time), and is intimidating in the way that guys who play sports and talk confidently always are. He hasn’t mentioned it to any of his friends, and it’s when he’s grabbing coffee with Ashton (music major a few years above who he’d met through his roommate, Calum, who shares classes with him, and Michael kind of has a crush on) that things come to a head. 

“Oh, shit,” Michael says suddenly, interrupting some theory Ashton was trying to explain to him that he and Calum had come up with and written down when they were high.

“What?” Ashton asks, looking slightly annoyed.

“Sorry, It’s nothing,” Michael shakes his head, desperately trying to angle his face away from the entrance that Beck’s just sauntered through. Ashton follows Michael’s vision to where Beck has just gone to order and turns back to him.

“Is it that douchey hipster looking guy?” Ashton asks, looking slightly amused, “What’d you do to piss him off?”

“He’s just this guy who’s in my Art who keeps texting me,” Michael sighs, and the amusement leaves Ashtons features, his eyebrows knitting together into an expression that’s probably meant to look menacing but just looks kind of adorable.

“What do you mean by that?” Ashton asks, his voice steady.

“It’s not a big deal, he’s just, like, interested, and I’ve told him I’m not but he keeps, um, persisting. And he’s in all my classes, so I can’t really just punch him in the face ‘cause then It’d be super tense for the rest of the year, and I might get kicked out, or moved, which would be super annoying because I’ve already done so much work,” Michael looks at his hands the entire time he’s speaking.

“Well, I could punch him for you,” Ashton offers.

“No you fucking couldn’t, then you’d just get kicked out or, like, arrested. Also, when have you ever hit anyone in your life ever?” Michael raises his eyebrows at him.

“If this guy’s being a pushy asshole, I could justify punching him,” Ashton says defiantly. 

“Oh, shit, he’s seen me,” Michael groans. Beck is smirking at Michael, making his way towards them. Literally smirking. Like a fucking predator.

“I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend!” Ashton blurts out quickly.

“What?” Michael asks incredulously.

“Yeah! I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend and tell him if he keeps texting you I’ll, like, deck him,” Ashton smiles like its a great idea.

“Ashton, I love you, but you are the most friendly and unintimidating person I have ever met,” Michael says dubiously, “You’re like an actual cartoon character.”

“Thank you?” Ashton decides to go with before Beck is sidling up to the table.

“Hey Mike,” He smiles leaning against Michael’s chair a little. Ashton coughs, and Beck turns round like he only just noticed him.

“Can I help you?” Ashton asks in a cold tone Michael has never heard him use before.

“I was just saying hey to my friend, is there a problem with that?” Beck raises his eyebrows, but backs away slightly when Ashton stands, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are tensed. He looks equally terrifying and super hot.

“It is when that’s my boyfriend you’re talking to,” Ashton takes a step forward, and Beck takes one back, “And I know you’ve been harassing him.”

“Boyfriend? Oh, I didn’t know, he never said-” Beck holds his hands up.

“Ok, well you’re going to stop texting him like a rapey asshole, and we’re going to go back to our date, sound good?” Ashton’s jaw flexes.

“Yeah, of course, no disrespect, man,” Beck nods his head fervently, backing away like Ashton’s some kind of wild animal. Michael watched Ashton build a literal pillow fort to read comic books in last week, this is ridiculous. It’s also weirdly attractive.

Ashton sits down with a giddy grin on his face as Beck turns to leave.

“He was totally fucking scared of me!” Ashton whisper-shouts.

“We should kiss,” Michael blurts out, “So, um, that he doesn’t think we were lying,” He winces slightly.

“Michael, Beck has left,” Ashton giggles.

“Oh, right, um,” Michael mumbles, “Well, thanks.” 

“Michael,” Ashton smiles, looking smug and not at all cute, “you have the hots for me.”

Michael splutters on his coffee.

“What the fuck? No one says that, no one on this planet says ‘you have the hots for me’,”

“I just did. And you do,” Ashton retorts, “You just asked to kiss me for no reason!”

“There was a reason!” Michael argues.

“It was weak,” Ashton shakes his head, still looking all cocky and shit. Michael wants to kiss the look right off his face.

“Have I read this wrong or do you have the hots for me also?” Michael sighs, accepting that he has a crush on this lame, lame idiot.

“You just said it! You joined the club,” Ashton crows triumphantly, “Congratulations!” He smiles, and then he’s kissing him. Which is nice.


End file.
